


Ask Me, Shake Me

by spnsmile



Series: Destiel Prompt August Collection 2020 [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Awkward Crush, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Castiel Has a Crush on Dean Winchester, Crack, Crushes, Dean Winchester Has a Crush on Castiel, Eventual Relationships, First Crush, First Kiss, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, High School Castiel/Dean Winchester, Kissing, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Short, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Sweet, Teen Crush, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:49:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25896979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnsmile/pseuds/spnsmile
Summary: AU where detention buddies couldn't stop stealing glances at each other and Dean braves it so he pulls his chair in front of the new transferee, dark-haired blue-eyed, to ask for his name."We shouldn't talk while in detention, Dean. "Dean doesn't remember telling him his name.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Destiel Prompt August Collection 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1860856
Comments: 10
Kudos: 158
Collections: Writer's Month 2020





	Ask Me, Shake Me

**Author's Note:**

> written for August Writer's month Day 8 prompt: EIGHT
> 
> i shouldn't be... i am dead with deadline already but it popped out >_<
> 
> also it's a crack or something xD

When Dean Winchester got home late, grumbling and hungry after receiving three-day detention for punching three dickheads who deserved it that Monday morning, he knew he was in for a trying week.

His father works late so the school couldn’t get to him, but he’ll be hearing from them soon, that's why Dean was in a sour mood when he dropped his bag on the floor and pulled his jacket off his shoulder. But when he found his younger brother waiting for him in the kitchen with preheated dinner and a box of pie, he quickly softens, his day becoming a little better.

Dean’s in the middle of his second slice when Sam suddenly pushed a small box wrapped in blue stickers on the table. Giving him an expectant look, Sam told Dean to open it. Dean did, only to find a curious little plastic black sphere made to look like an eight-ball and is called _magic eight-ball_. One of those children’s toy he sees on commercial.

“What do I do with this?” he gapes, putting it at eye level.

“Just… shake it, you know how it works, you’re just acting dumb.” Sam tells him with a shrug, biting on his slice of pie.

“I know what it is, brainy-doofus, but I’m asking _why?”_

“It’s your birthday.” Sam says simply, Dean’s heart swells with love until Sam adds, “And whenever you think of doing something stupid in school out of impulse or boredom, you just—shake it and follow what it says. I guarantee you—you’ll survive high school until you graduate.”

Dean scoffs, but to humor his brother’s pure heart he kept it in his person at all times. He spent half of his day the next morning telling his friends to get off his back when he showed them the sphere, feeling proud and generous to share his brother’s gift. Rolling his eyes at the comment and listening to their hilarious question, Dean began playing, asking trivial questions at first and shaking it, seeking advice from the little toy. He got the same response over and over again that by the end of the day back at home, he’s ready to throw it away in frustration.

“What the heck did you get me, Sammy? Aren’t magic balls supposed to give you a positive reply, too? Why’s all I got the entire day when I asked if I should skip detention were—‘ ** _My reply is no_ ,**’ or ‘ ** _Concentrate and ask again’_** _or that ‘ **Don’t count on it’**?_ It doesn’t let me do anything— it’s glitched!”

“It’s not glitched, here let me try,” Sam grabs the eight ball, “Should I go to law school?” he shakes the eight ball. They both peer in the tiny lens where the answer, ‘ ** _Certainly’_** appears. “Am I going to get taller than Dean someday?” he asked again and shakes the ball.

 ** _Yes, definitely._** It read.

Beaming, Sam hands the ball back to Dean who glowers. He never got any of those positive answers at all. He shoves the toy inside his bag muttering about selective toys and prejudice of inanimate objects.

When Dean’s turn for detention comes after class, he tries again.

“Should I skip detention?”

**_My source says no._ **

Dean grits his teeth and tries again, “Should I walk out of detention after five minutes?”

**_My reply is no._ **

“You just don’t cut the crap out, huh?” Dean grimaces, throwing his bag over his shoulder and marching towards the forsaken hallway. The detention room was still empty when he got there making him reconsider skipping for real when a voice so low nearly had him jumping out of his skin.

“Excuse me?”

Dean turns and he finds a small dude—an inch shorter with unruly dark hair ogling at him with a tilt of head on the side wearing a white long sleeve under a thick tan jacket, eyes painted like blue flame, intense and deep with a face so beautiful it’s not even fair to call him human.

“Uh…”

“You’re blocking the door,” the cute guy says humorlessly, almost deadpan, getting Dean to jump inside the room, rubbing his hair in embarrassment. He takes the chair in front of the table while the pretty guy takes the seat next to the door which was Dean’s usual spot to make escape easier but he’s so distracted by the new face. The guy sits with a straight body, arms primly fixed on the desk while Dean slouches forward, stealing glances now and then until the teacher joins them.

So he's got a detention buddy?

Ten minutes of silence, nobody speaks after the initial instruction. Dean glances up, bothered by the distinct feeling someone’s watching him. He sees the new guy not even remotely shying away from staring at him. Their eyes meet— sparks fly, brains were blown and Dean pulls his gaze away with a jolt, his throat drying as he freezes on the spot.

Jesus what intensity— what a daring guy with nerdy baby blues sucking him in, but there must be a mistake. Dean’s never met him, a guy like that he’ll remember for sure. When he steals another look after a minute, the guy is now busy with his notes. Disappointed, Dean takes a deep breath. Something about the guy feels familiar, something drawing him in for some reason and when he looks up to find the guy staring his way again, Dean bites his lips, revelation unfolding inside his exploding brain. Hints, those hints… is it a mixed signal? What is it?

“Can I borrow your pen?”

“ _Jeezus,”_ Dean jumps in his chair, startled to see the guy standing beside his desk, his shadow looming, face expressionless, blue eyes lingering on his face, “Dude, don’t scare me like that…”

“I’m sorry,” he inclines his head, Dean can swear that wicked jaw can cut, “Pen?”

Dean hands him the pen, their fingers brush and the fireworks won’t stop. _Ask his name_ , his head screams, but Dean’s too out of his head. His pretty detention buddy stood there like he wants to say something, decided against it, and walks away. Dean watches him return to his chair, aware of his abnormal heartbeat.

Great, so he's crushing on a new guy already. He's always had a weak spot for all the pretty faces—but this guy looks so much more and he wants to know more. Wants to ask more. But how? He doesn’t even know if the guy cares for him. He remembers their glued gazes, blue eyes asking him something but what? So what’s the best thing to do when in doubt?

Something pops in his head, making him restless and nervous. He knows it’s idiotic, knows only simpletons follow the word of a ball, but weighing it, he’s never really gotten any good answers anyway. So maybe giving it a go and getting a negative will snap him out of his puppy love.

Dean doesn’t make his move until the last-five minute strikes. Quietly, he ducks to his bag and takes out the magic eight ball. Wrapping his hands around it and making sure no one sees him, he clears his throat, wets his drying lips and asks—

“Should I ask him out?” he shakes the ball, heart thumping. This is the ball that has given him nothing but _no, no, and no_ in summary.

**_Yes._ **

Dean’s jaw drops. He can hear his ears ring as he frantically held the ball almost kissing it, “S-should I introduce myself?”. Shakes.

**_Outlook, good._ **

Dean stares hard at the magic ball.

“D-does he like me?”. Shake.

**_Signs point to yes._ **

The incredulity of this all.

“Should I just drop it?”

**_Concentrate and ask again._ **

“Should I ask for his name?"

**_Yes._ **

Dean bites his lips and looks across the room. So they couldn't stop stealing glances at each other and Dean braves it this time so he pulls his chair in front of the new transfer student, dark-haired blue-eyed to ask for his name.

"We shouldn't talk while in detention, Dean. "

Dean sits back, eyes full of wonder at the new guy. He never told the guy his name and this is their first meeting.

He is just mesmerized when the guy opens his lips to form words but doesn't exactly say anything. Whatever his words were, Dean doesn't get a chance as the teacher pats a notepad on top of his head and asks him to return to his chair. Dean glances back at his detention buddy, glad they're still doing the eye contest because he cannot _not_ look at those eyes.

He returns to his chair, pausing to make sure the teacher isn't watching and when he's in the clear, he takes the magic ball up to his lips again.

"Do I have a chance?" He asks and shakes.

**_Outlook good._ **

Dean wants to kiss the ball. Clearing his throat, he thinks of the next most unnerving thing he's frying the brain is capable of thinking.

"Does he like me?"

**_Yes._ **

_“Yes.”_

Dean nearly throws himself out of his chair. Cute guy is there again standing so close to his chair with his bag on his shoulder. Piercing blue eyes fixated on him. He wants to collapse with his heart probably at the ceiling of the room.

“You get surprised a lot.” He hands Dean back his pen.

He takes it, swallowing his tongue down as he eases back to his chair.

“Because you keep popping out of nowhere, are you a ghost?” Dean says, trying to hide the magic ball behind him while he distracts the guy with intimidation. It doesn’t work, those blue eyes follow his hands, but he seems nice enough not to comment on it because if he does, Dean will die.

“The hour for detention is over, the teacher left just now. Why are you still sitting here, Dean?” he asks. Dean looks around and sure enough found the room to themselves. 

“I uh… was distracted…” Dean doesn’t look him in the eyes. Standing up, he plugs his hand deep in the pocket of his bag where he drops the item, but then he turns sharply back at the guy in pure disbelief, “Dude, you… you know my name?”

Blue eyes flicker and it’s the first time Dean sees someone so pretty blush without expression changing—it’s the tinge of pink coloring a tiny corner of his cheeks where his long eyelashes sweep down when he blinks— Dean has never seen anything quite like it before. 

“Yes, I asked around,” the guy clears his throat, “I am the guy you helped last Monday from those students… um, the reason why you’re here, really. I uh… I took the liberty of asking about you around. It wasn't hard, there's only one guy with beautiful green eyes around... I mean, I meant to say hi and thank you but you were always with your friends and… I realized the only way to make sure I can talk to you in person is going to detention.”

“Dude, you intentionally got detention—?”

“To meet you, yes,” he beams, eyes crinkling, face...

Breathless, Dean lost it.

That right there should be illegal in all respect and should never be allowed to be seen by anyone but him. Bringing his hand forward, he offers it up, telling himself he should have done this earlier.

“Dean Winchester, nice to meet you, uh—?”

“Castiel,” they shake hands and Dean doesn’t want to let go but he did.

“Cas—?”

“That too. Hello, Dean.”

They break into small smiles, awkwardly chatting about how Cas shouldn’t have to be there, Dean shouldn’t have to be punished alone, but when they walk out together, side by side, Dean makes sure to get his number and ask if they can hang out together. Castiel gives him all the yes in the world and Dean’s not sure but he’s been shaking in excitement to go to school ever since.

More positive of all is a month later when Castiel gives him another 'yes' to be together officially, the kiss was so damn good, it almost made Dean confess his undying love until Castiel asks him out of curiosity if Dean was still consulting with the magic eight-ball to determine his luck.

Dean was not offended, “No, I kept it at home. I won’t be ruled by some magic eight-ball when I know what I want and I want you.”

Castiel squints at him suspiciously but smiles anyway. A kind of smile that just makes Dean want to kiss him again.

“Yes,” Castiel says as if he read Dean’s mind.

Dean smiles, leaning down, savoring the soft warm lips pressing against his own. Castiel's such a damn good kisser, Dean always teased that Castiel's born for it. He gets another yes and another steamy make-out session. Dean doesn’t need any magic eight-ball for this, that’s for sure.


End file.
